


Positional

by Hikaru R Kudou (suigeneris)



Category: Slam Dunk
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-25
Updated: 2010-09-25
Packaged: 2017-10-12 04:36:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/120870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suigeneris/pseuds/Hikaru%20R%20Kudou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sakuragi and Rukawa, and a conversation on being the best and irreplaceable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Positional

 

 _“The great and the little have need of one another” – Thomas Fuller_

            It all started from a question from some sort of a motivational talk his batch of first years attended that afternoon.

            Sakuragi Hanamichi had nothing against motivational talks or self-help programmes, for the elementary reason that they provide the best opportunity for him to sleep. Indeed, to be surrounded by a sea of students in the hall, even his flaming red hair was inconspicuous enough to be noticed; hence he was rarely reprimanded for the offence of sleeping during formal talks, if ever. Then again, perhaps he was just too good of an actor in making it _seem_ that he was attentive while his mind had far drifted off to sleep, or maybe, just maybe, the teachers themselves were too sleepy to mind any student’s sleeping.

            But something was clearly different that day. He did try to sleep during the talk entitled “Why Being the Best is Best” – the boring title was enough to create an impression of how dull the entire lecture was going to be, despite the positive tone it tried to carry – since he believed that being a genius was equivalent to being the best. If he was a genius, that would automatically mean he was the best as well.

            He did not listen to the whole speech, with his brain too absorbed on a small portion the lecture touched on:

            _“This world we live in doesn’t, unfortunately, have enough opportunity for all of us. That’s why in most cases, only the best would emerge victorious in the race for success, while the rest, if lucky enough, would merely get the small crumbs left over._ __

 _“Let’s take an example. There’s a cake five metres away from two kids. The cake is divided into two but the divisions are not of the same sizes. The kids dart to the cake, and the fastest kid will grab the bigger piece._ __

_“What does this imply? If you’re not the best, you get left out.”_ __

The idea, scary as it was, did carry some weight of truth. As soon as Sakuragi heard it, his imagination was already sprinting out of the hall and into the basketball courts, where as a consequence, made him thought of basketball and soon, a team-mate of his. The one he regarded as his closest rival, Rukawa Kaede.

            The redhead glanced around to search, and sure enough, he could perceive that unmistakable mop of midnight black hair, slumping down. Obviously the guy was deep asleep, with his chin resting on his chest.

            Sakuragi sighed. If only he could sleep as well…

            It was going to be a long, long talk.

\- - - - -

            Like everyone else, Sakuragi welcomed the moment when the talk finally ended. As soon as they were adjourned, the teenager raced to the main gate. The school had cancelled all sport activities that day just to make way for the talk, so he had no basketball training that day. Of course, Akagi, when he announced their postponing of training the day before, reminded everyone that he expected full attendance on their next practice. He did seem slightly upset at the school’s interference with his team’s schedule, but orders were orders, and there was nothing he could do about it. Who knows, the talk on being the best might actually do them some good.

            But he did wonder why the school would hold the talk in the afternoon, which was the best time for afternoon naps.

            Sakuragi, his bag slung on one shoulder, continued to entertain his thoughts as he walked that he forgot to wait up for Mito Youhei although he did promise him that they were to go home together. Youhei did notice him, but upon noting that something was not quite right with his best friend, he decided to let him be.

            Sakuragi’s feet brought him to a basketball court just a stone’s throw from Shohoku High School, and as fate had intended, was just in time to see Rukawa Kaede, much refreshed now in contrast to the time he was in the hall, dribbling alone. Sakuragi instinctively watched from afar.

            The potential Shohoku ace darted across the court with the ball, exuding confidence and determination as he did so. Stopping just behind the three-pointer line, he jumped into the air and as he was airborne, he cast the ball forward. The orange orb fell gracefully into the loop, barely touching the iron ring. Rukawa retrieved the ball, turned around to return to his previous spot but stopped when he noted a figure watching him.

            For a minute, none of them moved. Sakuragi was uncharacteristically silent, whereas on normal days, he would just relapse to his I-am-the-tensai mode, laugh condescendingly at Rukawa after taunting or mocking him by saying that Rukawa was a mere novice in comparison to him.

            Sakuragi made an attempt to leave, and barely ten steps later, a ball came into contact with his back. The foxy player was trying to provoke him, just as he was about to leave peacefully. That, naturally, made him mad.

            Facing the other player, he barked crossly, “What the heck was _that_ for? Can’t you aim properly? The goal’s at the other end!”

            Rukawa seemed unperturbed, hardly wincing. If anything, one would say that he was, deep down inside, enjoying the reaction he received. Maintaining a straight face, “It hit the target.”

            “Oi!”

            “Bring me the ball.”

            “What made you think I’m going to follow what you say?”

            “You’re a do’aho.”

            “Rukawa!”

            The raven-haired player’s eyes narrowed a bit, but he returned to the court, his back now towards the redhead. It did not matter that Sakuragi had the ball, Rukawa had another.

            “Oi, don’t you want this back?” asked Sakuragi, holding the ball in one hand and pointing towards it with his free hand.

            Rukawa decided to ignore him this time. He produced his second ball, and pressed it as a way of inspecting. He released it to fall under gravity’s influence but its momentum after it bounced off the floor was slightly weak. The ball was short of air.

            Rukawa was too proud to ask for the ball that Sakuragi was holding for the second time, so tossing aside his civility, he glared at the other to get the meaning across. Sakuragi’s face relaxed and, surprisingly, approached him. Rukawa had expected that he would just throw the ball back at him, in all probably making his face the bullseye.

            Now that Sakuragi was only a metre away from him, Rukawa assumed that he would have to fight just to get Sakuragi to return his ball. Or, a worse scenario would be that Sakuragi would ask him to beg just to scar his dignity.

            “This one’s better,” remarked Sakuragi unnecessarily. “Which reminds me, Rukawa…”

            The other could not help wondering when the blow would come.

            Instead, “Which of us is better?” asked Sakuragi.

            Rukawa gawked at him in slight surprise when what he anticipated never came after all, and as if the redhead had just asked the most obvious question that everybody would know the answer to.

            After not getting a quick answer, Sakuragi said, “You don’t have to answer that.” His eyes were now on the orange ball. With a sigh, he tossed it lightly in Rukawa’s direction, to which the latter caught deftly.

            Sakuragi moved again to leave, but again, the ball hit his back gently. Their eyes met again.

            “Not up for a game, are you?” Rukawa murmured.

            Sakuragi did not answer immediately.

            “Don’t you want to know which of us is better?”

            “Not now.”

            Rukawa just stared, but before he returned to his solo practice, Sakuragi spoke again.

            “Let’s just say, a really, really superb player enters the team. Maybe he’s as good as, as…Maki, or…Sendoh…”

            “…and he enters Shohoku, and Gori takes him in, and…he makes the team. That only leaves four spots for regular players. One’s for Gori, second for Mitchy, then it’s Ryochin, and fourth is…” Sakuragi boldly looked into those cold blue orbs that are Rukawa’s irises. “Which of us will it be, Rukawa? You or me?”

            Rukawa’s eyebrows twitched. “Why?”

            “Being a regular is important, isn’t it? It shows that you’re the best for the fight on court.”

            “You really are an idiot.” Rukawa sat on the bench next to his things. The weather was unrelenting; he had only been playing for only fifteen minutes and already his shirt was soaking with sweat. “Even if you’re a reserve, you can still play.”

            “As a replacement, ha!”

            “Reserves are needed too.”

            “But I want to play! What if Gori and Mitchy and Ryochin and Sendoh and you hog all the excitement and I’m only confined to the benches? I don’t want to be just a bench-warmer!”

            Rukawa cast him an exasperated look. If he had not controlled himself, he would have spurted something along the lines of “You’re making such a big deal out of a small issue. Get a life”.

            “Sendoh’s not coming in,” said Rukawa finally.

            “He’s only as an example, moron!”

            “I won’t allow it.”

            “As if Gori would listen to you.” Sakuragi switched his gaze to the skies above. “Then it wouldn’t be the same, would it? If you were still in, then I’d have to be the reserve. What if Gori thinks that I’ve not enough experience to be a regular player? That’ll definitely make him choose you over me.”

            “Then beat all of us. Simple, isn’t it?” Rukawa stood up, and tossed the ball back to Sakuragi. “Challenge is good. It makes you keep up with the pace.”

            A heavy sigh. “I suppose I’m being selfish.”

            Rukawa merely arched an eyebrow.

            “If there’s a great player as an addition to the team, I should be happy. Gives us more chances of winning. If the players win, everybody wins…Right?” A smile, a weak one nonetheless, graced his somewhat morose visage.

            Rukawa had a scene playing out in his mind. He was on court and Sakuragi on the bench, sitting idly and possibly yelling out obscenities for not giving him a chance to play. In the game, Rukawa would not be passing the ball around so that Sakuragi would eventually bring it closer to their opponent’s pole. Rukawa would not be keeping an eye on him, to know where he would be in the next minute. In the game, if they had won, the feeling of victory would be different. It would be almost hollow.

            Something in his chest itched.

            Sakuragi was back in his thoughts, considering what Rukawa had said.

            Uncharacteristic of Rukawa, he had more to say. “Do’aho.”

            Sakuragi was silent, but he looked at the other teenager.

            “Didn’t it occur to you,” said Rukawa slowly, “that you might be…irreplaceable?” The blue pools that were his orbs were scrutinising the redhead’s countenance.

            The other boy blinked in surprise.

            Rukawa shrugged. “Being irreplaceable is good enough for you, if you’re incapable of being the best.”

            “Irreplaceable?”

            “One has to begin somewhere.”

            “How does it feel, to be both the best and irreplaceable?”

            Now Rukawa was starting to get irritated. Not only was this so-called rival of his asking philosophically-dumb questions, Sakuragi was acting way unusual for his personality. “Stop thinking too much,” said Rukawa. “It might damage the cells in your brain, and you don’t have that many to begin with.”

            Sakuragi narrowed his eyes, but kept his fists beside him. “Cocky, aren’t you?”

            Rukawa regarded him coolly. “What does it matter?”

            “Isn’t that what everybody wants to be? The best?”

            The ball was now forgotten as it rolled away from the duo, finally stopping just next to the pole.

            “You want to be the best, don’t you?” The way Sakuragi had said it, Rukawa felt as if it was a challenge. Rukawa knew that being the best might be the something _both_ of them were vying for.

            Sakuragi thought it was a little more than that.

           “What’s this about?” demanded Rukawa, his tone slightly suspicious. “It’s not just basketball, is it?” He kept the next question to himself: ‘ _Could the captain’s sister somehow be involved in this?’_




            The answer was so inaudible Rukawa almost had to strain to hear. “I’m not sure anymore.”

            “Annoying.” Before Sakuragi could say anything, Rukawa had cut in. “Why are you so damned emotional?”

            “Oh, yeah?” Now Sakuragi was starting to heat up in anger. “Then why are _you_ so damned _un_ emotional?”

            It was a question Rukawa rarely pondered over. Instead, he replied simply, “Because I’m me.”

            So that was not the best answer he could have given anyone who asked, clichéd and all, but it served its purpose.

            “If you want to strive for the best, do’aho, work towards it.” Rukawa shrugged. “People think you have potential, anyway.” After a long pause, he added. “I guess you have it.”

            Sakuragi would have gasped, but something was stuck in his throat. This was his first time hearing Rukawa talk _this_ much, and _entertaining_ whatever absurdities he was throwing at the reticent player.

            “So you _are_ saying I’m a genius!” exclaimed Sakuragi.

            Rukawa rolled his eyes, not entirely out of scorn. “Nobody will believe you if you told them I said that.”

            “Why are you being extra-talkative today?”

            “Because a do’aho won’t let me be if I don’t answer his stupid questions. Now go away.”

            A mischievous grin had manifested itself on Sakuragi’s face. “What if I don’t want to go away?”

            “You’re insane.”

            “Maybe I should bug you until you lose your marbles…that way, you’ll never be the best!” teased he.

            Rukawa’s eyebrow twitched again.

            “Hey, wait!” Sakuragi grabbed his shoulder just as Rukawa turned away to retrieve his forsaken ball, halting him in his tracks. “How about a game?”

            Rukawa’s eyes narrowed, tacitly implying that Sakuragi’s insanity must have escalated twofold. First he had declined, now he himself was offering?

            “No.”

            “A peaceful one? Play not to win, but for the game?”

            “I don’t think so.” Rukawa gestured at the heavens. “It’s getting late.”

            “Just one game.”

            Rukawa gave in at last, after a murmur of “To make you stop bothering me”. The ball was now in its owner’s hand, and was dribbled exactly in the middle of the court with the two players hovering over it.

            “You know,” said Sakuragi as the speed of the dribbling increased steadily, “if you’re not in the team, I’m not sure if I would be too…”

            Rukawa’s hand jerked suddenly, lost the ball, and now it was rolling to one side of the court. He glared up at his companion. “You did that on purpose.”

            “What? Hey, no! I didn’t mean to! I was just saying what’s on my mind!” Sakuragi straightened, denying it heartily. “It just occurred to me, you see…if I’m not playing with you in the same team…I’m not sure if I’ll be able to play well.” Sakuragi laughed nervously. “I know it’s stupid of me, so forget it!”

            Stupid, definitely. Especially since Rukawa was thinking something along the lines of what Sakuragi was now thinking of.

            Maybe, just maybe…

            It was a gamble, but Rukawa did not care. With the both of them now staring into each other’s deep eyes, Rukawa found himself thinking of Sakuragi, himself, and them.

            “Is this…?” asked Sakuragi, finally sensing that something was up between them. Something special that neither had never realised before.

            “…I guess.”

            “…Oh.”

            “Aa…”

            Sakuragi broke the awkward pause that had settled in. “Is it…okay?”

            “I don’t know.”

            “Oh.”

            “Do’aho.”

            “…”

            “We’d better go back.” Rukawa stood, but Sakuragi had swiftly caught his wrist, his face serious as ever.

            Before Rukawa could say anything, Sakuragi had claimed his lips. The redhead’s hand stole over Rukawa’s back, not minding the perspiration in the least. Rukawa held one arm around Sakuragi’s waist, pulling him closer.

            “I realised something, Rukawa.” He smiled in satisfaction when he had pulled back. “I _am_ the best.” Sensing no reply from Rukawa, he resumed. “It takes the best person to be loved by the best, don’t you see? If you’re the best, you should be able to see the ‘best’ in me!”

            Rukawa’s face had softened, but his scoff still came. “That doesn’t make any sense.” He released his companion, albeit reluctantly.

            “Yeah, it does.” Sakuragi argued in good humour.

            “No.” Rukawa’s ice mask was dangerously close to breaking.

            Sakuragi had laughed, running to get the ball and with it tucked under one arm, he returned to Rukawa’s side. “Looks like we’ll never get to play.”

            The other finally managed a small smile. Suppressing it was starting to be impossible. “You and your ridiculous attempt at philosophy.”

            “It was bugging me, okay?” Sakuragi shoved the ball lightly into Rukawa’s hands.

            “That should teach you about listening intently to pointless talks.”

            “I didn’t do it on purpose. You have anything edible at your place?”

            “The only thing bigger than your pride is your stomach, do’aho,” said Rukawa as he packed his belongings.

            Now that he was in a better mood, Sakuragi let the remark slide. “Well, do you?”

            “There’s pizza delivery.”

            “Nice! Then we’ll divide it into two…like how we’re half-best individually, but one hundred percent best when we’re a team!”

            “Being the best doesn’t equal to a pan of pizza, do’aho.”

            “No? But being your ‘the irreplaceable one’ sure beats it anyway.” Sakuragi laughed genially all of a sudden. “Man, what do you think the guy who gave that talk would say if he found out how we’ve manipulated his meanings?”

\- - - - -


End file.
